


After Left 4 Dead

by AdelaideinaGlade



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: (thanos voice) Fine I'll do it myself, F/M, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, I needed an ending guys, Quarantine had me replaying it and now...we're here, Some Canon Deviation, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28808250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelaideinaGlade/pseuds/AdelaideinaGlade
Summary: After being rescued from the new American hellscape, Nick and the group find themselves having to confront the horrors they had dealt with, as well as their new feelings with one another. After you survive the end of the world, where does the new beginning start?(Very short fan fiction with a happy ending for the L4D2 cast and L4D by proxy).
Relationships: Nick/Rochelle (Left 4 Dead)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	After Left 4 Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this is my first fanfiction so it's probably bad, but ffs I had to get an ending knowing that Valve probably isn't at all, or, gonna give one when I'm like 50. I have another "10 year later' section that I may or may not end up posting--(no major character deaths in that one either). Hope you guys who love Nick/Ro or at least want a proper ending like this <3

Nick heaved in what felt like would be his last breath as Rochelle grabbed his left arm, Coach his right, and Ellis went for his collar. He could hear the undead bastards reaching up their clawed hands for him, and for a moment, he entertained the idea of them just letting him go. He gave them enough reasons the first few days they were together. To just cast him back into the ocean of filth beyond him, to be consumed and forgotten. But they didn’t, they held on. 

The next series of moments went by like a flash. They heaved him into the air, letting him settle on the floor, as someone approached him. 

An Asian woman with half of her hair shaved off crouched down to him, a blade in her other hand. She grabbed Nick toward her, angled the blade, and he could already feel it punching through his neck. 

His life had been a series of ironic misfortunes. Finds people who accept him even with his flaws, become a better man, meet the woman of his dreams… only to get his throat slit by his savior.

He could feel it cut through something fleshy—he realized how accustomed he was to the squelch of cutting raw meat—but no lash of pain came from it. 

Oh he’d been stabbed before. This wasn’t like it. 

He opened his eyes. Blinked them just to make sure he was seeing straight. A smoker’s long, sickly pink tongue fell to the ground with a sickening thud. He hadn’t even felt it, in all the fray. 

“Where’d that come from?” He didn’t even realize he’d said them till they were out.

The woman shook her head and laughed. “You were too busy admiring everyone’s manicure to see Bullseye over there?” She jostled her head towards Rochelle, who now sat with her head in her hands “Never seen anybody shoot a smoker’s head off with a pistol, least not from that far off.”

Nick was going to die looking at Jimmy Gibbs fucking Junior. Smokers always seemed to find him with a vengeance, and the minute it wrapped its slimy tongue around Nick’s waist, it pulled him against the concrete pillar. He was hopelessly wedged between it and the smoker. Nick wouldn’t live, and the Smoker wouldn’t get his lunch, but it still pulled like its life depended on it. All that Nick could see was that hick driver staring down at him. Of all the ways Nick had figured he’d die, this wasn’t one. 

It was like breathing through a straw. With each exhale the Smoker’s grip got tighter, and tighter. He could only let out a hoarse, whispery, “Help me,” before he could feel his ribs begin to shutter. 

Someone cried out, “Smoker’s got Nick!”, and he could hear the stamping of feet following it. The world around him began to fade as he thought, No, don’t come for me. I’m not worth it. Just go. 

They had the gas. They had everyone who was actually worth something. They could just go. They should just go. 

He got a whiff of perfume as a figure ran up to him. He could die with that smell. 

The squelch of meat, and he heard something wet and heavy fall to the ground. He fell forward against the body. Rochelle, holding him, whispered,” It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” 

Overhead, he could hear that inbred kid--Ellis-- shout, “Got ‘em!” just as the Smoker let off a wheezy death scream. 

Slowly, with his heaving breath, light began to pour back in, and behind Rochelle, he could see a hooded figure on all fours winding up for a jump. At the start of his cry, Rochelle looked back, but Nick was quicker. His pistol was already in hand, and it only took a second for two bullets to fly out of his gun and into that son of a bitch’s head. 

Nick began to stand on his own, despite Rochelle’s open hand. “No, sweetheart, I don’t think it’s gonna be okay. But I owe you one.” 

Ro. He pushed himself back to the empty seat, his hands shaking far more than he would’ve liked. 

“Rochelle, are you okay?” he whispered. He saw her in three figures, all floating around the center of her. Even though he could hear her softly crying, he couldn’t help but silently pray Please don’t be dead, please don’t let her be dead. 

She suddenly grabbed him, holding her close. The warmth of his body almost made him forget about the blood soaking his suit. As he was about to lean into her embrace, she pulled back. A low click rang from below him, seatbelt now fastened around him. Rochelle pressed a hand onto his face and smiled. 

“Don’t want you falling out,” she whispered. 

She didn’t want him to fall out. Huh. That could go for a compliment, he figured. 

“Stay still,” he hissed as he stood over Rochelle in the tattoo chair. Nick’s fingernail was bigger than the alcohol remaining in the bottle--he couldn’t afford to waste it. 

“I’m sorry, it just burns,” whispered Rochelle. For a minute, Nick thought about stopping just so she wouldn’t hurt, but then he shook his head. He--the group needed her in good shape, so that they could get that bridge pulled down. Yeah, that was why. 

“Girl, a zombie three times your size just slammed you into the concrete, and you’re complaining that it stings?” Coach laughed. 

“It’s the little things.” Rochelle giggled, but it quickly turned back into a wince. He’d heard screaming from undead freaks chasing them, but that sound was enough to give him pause for a moment. 

“I thought you were supposed to be watching our backs while I get this done,” Nick snapped, harder than he intended. He didn’t dare look at Rochelle, but Coach shrugged. 

“Ellis said he’s got it,” Coach offered. From outside, he could see Ellis perched on top of a nearby car with a hunting rifle. 

Even from there, Nick could hear him whisper-yell, “Hey, Nick!” 

Ellis was the one that took out the Charger. Nick--he had the damn thing in his sights, but the kid was much quicker. Killed it before it could...do something worse to Rochelle. He had a million insults lined up for this moment, seeing the kid squatting on the car like a dog taking a shit, but he stopped. He owed him that. 

“You’re doing a good job, Ellis,” said Nick, possibly too low for him to hear. His eyes went to Rochelle as he dabbed a cloth with alcohol, wiping off the blood from the back of her arm. “Now let’s get you patched up.” 

Rochelle smiled at him. “Okay, but only if you promise to compliment people more.” 

Nick bit back a smile and said, “Sure--you’re not the most annoying person of the group. Happy?”

“Not sure that it counts as a compliment, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” 

Nick surveyed the other occupants of the helicopter. The seats were divided into threes--him, Ro, and Coach on one side, Ellis on the other, plopped awkwardly in between with two strangers. There was the asian woman with the black eye and shaved head to the right of him, rubbing the blood off her switchblade. He hadn’t even realized there was a sixth person with them--a hispanic man with brown hair and thick glasses, a smudged lab coat hanging from his shoulders. Initially, Nick thought he looked youthful, until he saw the strands of gray shooting through his dark brown hair. Then again, Nick had noticed several streaks in his. Stress did make old men out of them all, didn’t it. 

His eyes went back to Ro, then Ellis, and then Coach. Coach’s head was tipped to the floor of the shuttle, but even then Nick could see him gritting his teeth. 

“Y’all got a real funny sense of humor, you know?” Coach growled. His tone was cold and brutal--something Nick was familiar with but never from Coach of all people. 

The woman raised an eyebrow. 

“We’ve been roaming several states trying to get our asses out of this shit. A wild fuckin goose chase. CEDA says they’re here. ‘Oh, no, CEDA’s moved here. Oh, now we’re somewhere else. Hope you sorry bastards down there don’t get eaten alive!’.” 

The man began to wring his hands together as Coach railed into them. The woman, on the other hand, furrowed her brows and nodded her head along. Coach, out of breath, leaned back down, his eyes watering. 

“Do y’all even know what we’ve been through? What we’ve seen?” Coach wept after a moment. 

If he saw another clown, he’d shoot it, then himself. That damn squeaking rang in his ears even after Coach punched the shit out of it (though, seeing Coach beat a clown to death definitely wasn’t unfunny.) 

“There, that shut him up,” Coach sighed. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he slammed the safehouse’s door shut. Ellis stood there, gobsmacked. Even Rochelle’s eyes were widened. 

Nick, though, smiled. “Well, Coach, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“What can I say? Got a phobia of clowns. And of getting eaten alive.” 

“Understandable--haven’t seen that move in a while though--you aiming for the throat--fucking genius, I used that on a guy once in Vegas--” 

“Boys,” Rochelle called out, “if we wanna get out while we’re ahead, we need to go ahead and go.”

Coach smiled. “Okay, Rochelle, we’ll guard the back! You and Ellis head the way.”

“We are?” Before Nick could signal Rochelle for help, she nodded and turned around. Fuck.

They started walking out of the safehouse when Nick whispered, “Alright, so what do you want to chew me out about?” 

“Who says I want to chew you out?” 

“Because you’re you and I’m me. It’s nature.” 

Coach kept walking as Nick mulled over everything he could’ve done. Finally, he offered, “Coach, it was a stray bullet that hit your fatass, completely unintentional--” 

Coach started to laugh. “I was joking about that, Nick. It ain’t that. I just...been noticing how close you and Rochelle are.” 

“Yeah she’s…” Great. Kind. Gentle even in the face of all this bullshit. “...nice.” 

“Really, that’s all you got.” 

“Coach I’m thirty five, not eighteen. Fuck, I’ve been married before, I don’t need you to talk down to me. Just tell me to stay away and I will.” 

“Damn, you must have me figured out, Nicholas. You’ve said it all, I’ll just shut up and keep walking--”

“Oh my God, it’s like my dad came back from the dead--just say what you mean,” Nick hissed. 

“Listen, I’m not blind. The first day I saw you, you had a hickey on your neck and lipstick on your expensive ass suit. I bet you don’t even remember her name--” 

“No, that’s not true--well, maybe. Look, it’s two adults consenting to blow off some fucking steam, and I’m pretty sure God wasn’t in the room when I went down on her. Wasn’t like I proposed or some shit.” 

“I’m aware,” Coach said as he waved him down. “And that’s fine--it’s fine if that’s what you want and what she wants. But all I’m saying is that, you and her sometimes seem pretty into what the others are saying. Doesn’t read like a one-night stand to me.” 

“Your point?” 

“Unless you want to seriously screw over our group dynamic, Nick,” Coach whispered, “you better know what page y’all are on before things get too serious.” 

“I hear you, man.” Nick scratched at his five o’clock shadow. “Great speech by the way, if we come across a kid you should give him the same diatribe.”

“Oh trust me,” Coach said as he let go of an airy, sad laugh, “my kid got enough of that.” 

It took a moment for the implications of what Coach to truly sink in, but when it did, it hit harder than any physical blow. Two weeks ago it could’ve been such a meaningless statement, but now, Nick felt an unexpected tug at his heart. 

“Coach...Coach I didn’t--”  
“Hey, let’s get to the barn. Might be something in there,” Coach said as he sped up to meet with Rochelle and Ellis. 

“Yeah, I got an idea,” the woman whispered. “But I don’t think that will be too much of a problem anymore.” She shifted and chewed on her lip. “And we’re not CEDA--or the military, really.” 

“Misty!” the man with the lab coat hissed. “We don’t need to tell them this, they’re obviously overwhelmed as it is and--” 

“Listen, I know what it’s like to be on the frontlines of this shit,” the woman--Misty--snapped back. “Transparency goes a long way sometimes, and they deserve to know the truth.” 

Fuck. “So, what,” Nick numbly asked, “are we going to be dangled out to the zombies as bait now? Or are we professional pin cushions you’re gonna sell to what’s left of the government.” For once, no one seemed to be opposed to what he was saying. 

“Hell no, brother,” Misty said. “Like I said, we’re apart from CEDA and the military. Oh, sorry,” she said looking to her companion, “I’m apart from the bastards. Luis here is still having cold feet.” 

“Can someone please explain to us who the hell we’re getting rescued by, if it’s not CEDA?” Rochelle snapped before returning her head back to her hands. Misty blew out a quick breath and nodded. 

“I’m sure you guys have noticed that you don’t get sick. Even when you, quite literally, get puked on by the damn bastards down there. There’s a reason for that.” 

“We’re immune, right?” Ellis suddenly perked up. 

Misty shrugged just as her friend--Luis--said solemnly, “No.” 

Misty smacked her lips and said, “Well, we’re basically immune in a way--”

“That’s, no. Here, I’ll explain the best I can.” Luis took a deep breath in and sighed. “We’re not immune. We don’t have any symptoms, and obviously, we still have our mental faculties...for the most part. But that only means we’re asymptomatic--for all extensive purposes, we’re carriers of it. Almost everyone in the United States has it.” 

“So it is airborne,” Rochelle deadpanned. “Someone at my news station mentioned that.” 

Luis scratched the back of his head. “The virus...mutates at an alarming rate, but over hundreds of witnessed mutations--”

Ellis’ eyes went wide. “Hundreds?!” 

“--never has someone who has been found to be a carrier ever received any problematic symptom.”

“But you said we’re not immune, we’re carriers.” Coach furrowed his brows. “That would mean…” 

“Oh shit,” Ellis gasped as he gripped the back of his head, “that dude who saved us in the whirlibird. We--”

“We don’t know that we did it!” Nick interjected. “I didn’t strip search the motherfucker, he could’ve been bit.” His eyes went to Luis. “We didn’t...we couldn’t have infected him, right? H--he turned into a zombie so fast--it couldn’t have been that quickly, right?” 

“My pal, Keith, had this thing happen with the Midnight Riders. He…” 

Nick couldn’t believe how good Ellis was for ambiance. In these--shit, he’d lost track of the days--weeks, he’d really become accustomed to Ellis’ voice. There could’ve even been a small, miniscule chance that he didn’t think it sounded annoying. Kid is pretty good at getting people’s minds off all this shit, Nick thought as he heard the pilot laugh. 

He turned his head towards Rochelle. She stared out the opened sky, eyes tender, a small smile playing across her lips. The stars in the sky reflected back at her ocean deep brown eyes. 

Nick, in spite of everything, smiled too. This seemed to catch her eye. She turned back and grinned even wider. “What are you laughing at?”

“Oh, I’m not laughing, sweetheart.” Before he could catch himself, he added, “Just admiring the view.” 

“You could see it just as well from over there.” She winked at him.

“Not as interesting.” 

Rochelle stifled a giggle--God, such a beautiful sound--as she leaned against the wall, blinking ever so slightly. “Coach seems to be okay with sleeping.” 

Nick cast a glance to the giant sleeping soundlessly to the side, his face twitching, a groan or two coming from him when the moment demanded. 

“Yeah, you’d think he was a zombie, sounding like that.” 

“Think I might catch a few Zs too. Are you okay with holding watch while Ellis...makes new friends?” 

Nick nodded, then moved closer to her. “You don’t...erm...it’s not good for your neck if you lie against metal.”

“This another one of the things you learned as a con artist?”

“Well, it’s just logic, Ro, that shit hurts and there’s no reason to when there’s...someone--something softer.” 

“I doubt our rescuer brought pillows.” 

“No, no that’s not what I’m saying here. All I’m suggesting is that you can...lean on my shoulder if you want.” 

She cocked her head, another grin fixing into place. “But Nicholas, what about your three thousand dollar suit?” 

Nicholas made a mock gasp. “I know right! It’s not like the shit stains from the sewer and zombie brains have fucked over its value.” 

“Heh,” Rochelle said as she leaned onto him, “okay, suit. I’ll take your offer.” 

“Haven’t called me that in awhile.” 

“I know. Just felt like I should remind you.” 

Nick tipped his head back, and for once the world didn’t seem to be on his shoulders. Maybe when this whole thing was over, things could go better for him. Gambling and conning, that had been his life till now, but with this...angel quite literally on his shoulder, maybe it didn’t need to be. 

“Hey Nick?” asked Ellis. 

“Yeah, fireball?” Nick mused as he opened his eyes. 

Ellis was no longer in the passenger seat, but rather squatting on the floor. His eyes were wide with alarm. “I don’t think our pilot guy isn’t looking too hot. Should I tell him?”

Nick peered closer to see that the man’s skin had turned gray, a sick groaning now ringing from him. His eyes were now glowing, and they were on Ellis  
“Fuck!”  
.  
As it lunged for Ellis, Nick pulled out his gun and fired straight into its skull, as the plane now hopelessly fell back to Earth.

Luis didn’t answer him. 

Misty studied the group for a moment and then nodded. “You guys got picked up by a chopper?” 

Numbly, Nick nodded. “I shot him, but he was about to take a bite out of Ellis’ neck if I didn’t, i-if I had known, I would’ve...” 

“You couldn’t have done anything,” Misty confessed, her voice becoming soft. “I take it he wasn’t wearing a gas mask.”

“No.”

She shook her head. “He was fucked from the start. You put him out the humane way.”

“Misty--” Luis hissed, but she waved him off and went on. 

“Whatever, you couldn’t have helped it. Either way he would’ve been infected, better to go out quick than stay one of those fucking mutants, or get torn apart by the fucks.” 

“He could’ve...we--” Rochelle grabbed his hand before he could finish it, tightly wound hers around his. She squeezed it, and Nick squeezed back, feeling comfortable with the silence with her there. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that any longer,” Luis whispered. 

“Where are we going, then?” Coach asked. “I take it y’all are carriers too if you aren’t wearing anything.” 

“You’d be right,” supplied Misty. “CEDA and the military fucked up hard here in the east. It’s been, what, three weeks?”

“Twenty-four days,” Luis supplied. 

“Right, that’s about three and a half. Well, first five days, just wandering around trying to survive with two others. They didn’t last long. Found a military convoy and they took me, locked me up, stuck me with God’s knows what, and when nothing fucking happened, there were some dissention in the ranks. Thought I, and everybody else in the place, was fucked. Then, my savior over here busts down my door and says that the carriers are leaving. CEDA’s taking our asses and leaving. And we did. But apparently dissension wasn’t only happening in the military--some of the highest higher ups also happened to be carriers, believe or not. Took the rest of us sorry bastards with them in their crazy ass apocalypse society start-up plan.” 

“Why?” Nick suddenly busted in. “Why not just run off themselves?”

Misty scratched her neck. “As I’ve learned from my pal over yonder, CEDA motherfuckers think long term. I mean, they say shit like it's for morality and whatever, but I’ve read the plans. They’re thinking this is how we restart society. They need us for genetic diversity, and a few for helping make a cure.” She sighed. “We’ve got a system on the edges of the Florida Keys and Georgia’s Barrier Islands. It’s not perfect, definitely not like how it was before, but it’s safe. Haven’t seen any undead ever since I got there.” 

“Really, no booger bears?” Ellis asked, incredulous. “Not a one?” 

“There’s a few people there that act like they’re dead, but no, not beyond a reasonable doubt. There’s something with them and the water. Those CEDA defectors are making sure of it, too. You guys are lucky we still cooperate with the ones who still buddied up with the military, otherwise we wouldn’t have come to get you. Had to do a blood test for the eggheads there when your radio signal hopped out.” Misty smiled, made an effort for it. “Even though it’ll take awhile for us to get to the Keys, I hope you guys enjoy it, or that it will be better than it was out there. I really do.” 

Their first night on the keys. Misty and Luis showed them to a set of shacks near the shore. This particular island had its own set of farms, and one that would soon be added to them after they promised to help cultivate more food. Coach even offered his “exceptional” fishing skills to them, but the terms would later be set up. Apparently another new group had set up nearby, three people. When Misty named that exact amount, Ellis’ eyes seemed to light up, as if he hadn’t forgotten that fateful bridge. They would introduce themselves tomorrow. 

There were two ramshackled shacks already made with the farmland. “We can make more if you guys need your own living space,” Luis offered, “but since you’re already familiar with one another, I don’t think it will be as bad for you as it would be for others.” 

For the night, the four sat around a campfire, drinking from clay cups of water and savoring the chilliness of all of them. Nick suddenly realized that despite everything they’d been through together, they never had a chance to sit back and simply talk. Nick also realized then how much he liked it. How much he liked them. 

It was decided rather quickly that Ellis and Coach would take one building, and Rochelle and Nick the other. After an hour or two of preparing everyone’s rooms, Nick waltzed back out into the dying firelight that illuminated Rochelle. 

Nick smiled at Rochelle, cocking his head to the side. “Miss me?” 

And then they were on each other. One of the longest kisses Nick had ever given. They stood there, enveloped by the others’ embrace, the undeniable warmth surrounding Nick. For that moment, Nick realized how cold his life had been, how frozen he had made himself. It took years to build that up, and now, these people---this girl---melted it without a single thought. He didn’t know when they stopped kissing and when they began to just hold one enough. 

“I thought you were dead, Nick. I thought they were going to leave you and then…God.” It took Nick a minute to realize that she was crying. Nick lifted her chin to him with one hand, then wiped away the tears with another. 

“I’m not dead. I’m especially sure of that right now.” 

She wept more, all while Nick held her, whispering into her neck that he was here. After a while of light kisses across her collarbone, she moved his head to meet her gaze.

“Nick, God, I…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Ro. I...this is new to me, but…” He didn’t know what the future held. What laid after that ‘but’. Whatever it was though, with Rochelle, Coach, and Ellis, he figured he could handle it. 

A devilish smile came onto his face. “Well, we do now have our own rooms apart from the peanut gallery.”

“What are you suggesting?” Rochelle laughed. 

Nick swept her into his arms. Her legs latched around his waist as she draped her arms against her shoulder. “You know, I’m aware of the good girl thing being a bit of an act at times.”

“Really now?” Rochelle asked.

“Oh you’re a good person, but I think there’s some ways you can be very bad…”

“We’ll just have to test that out, won’t we?” 

Nick and her broke out into laughter. Her head was only an inch away from his. They brushed their foreheads together as Nick whispered earnestly, “ I love you, Ro.”  
Rochelle whispered back, “I love you too, Nick.”


End file.
